


The Coma

by sonofabitch_awesome



Category: Futurama
Genre: :/, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Episode Related, Episode: The Sting, F/M, Hospitals, Very cheesy fanfic, Very old fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/sonofabitch_awesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened on Fry's side of the story in The Sting.</p><p>Fic from 8 years ago I found on my computer recently. 'S how it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coma

**Author's Note:**

> Found this when I was looking for something on my computer! Wrote this over eight years ago and am uploading 100% as-is, save for the doctor’s name change. Maudlin crap and OOC-ness is all mine. Sorry. 21-year-old Cally was even more dramatic than 29-year-old Cally is.
> 
> (I don’t plan _currently_ to write any additional Futurama fanfic, but if I ever find my other old stuff, perhaps I’ll upload that too. [Though those are even yuckier.])
> 
> ((And yes, I know there have been a zillion fic-fill-ins of scenes, and other sides of scenes, etc. Welp, here was/is my version of a 4x12 other-side scene!))

Bees popcorned against all sides of the ship, rocking it back and forth. Leela expertly pulled controls and levers, blasting the ship back into space.  
“We made it! We’re alive!” Fry cheered as Bender danced in triumph.  
Leela set the baby queen in Nibbler’s basket, then stood to face him and Bender. “Burn on that old crew! The only things they did better than us were suck, and die!”  
Fry tried to forget the screams on the recording. “Leela, we got lucky this time. But you should be more careful,” he said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”  
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I can look out for myself. Frankly, I can smell danger a mile away.”  
“Look out!” Fry yelled as the bee flew out of the basket, narrowly missing Leela. She screamed as it turned and aimed its stinger at her. Quickly he threw himself in front of her. “You want her? You’ll have to go through me!”  
The bee flew forward, its stinger piercing his stomach – but it kept going, the sharp point exiting his back and stinging Leela too. They both fell to the floor.  
Detached, Fry realized that the stinger was ripping his stomach open, but before he could react, blackness violently slammed down.

White walls, white bed, blue floor.  
Fry looked around a little more and realized he was wearing a hospital gown, in a hospital bed, alone. “Hey, anyone?” he called out toward the door, trying to sit up – but his stomach… He winced as stabbing pain radiated outward. In an instant, the accident rushed back to him.  
Nurse’s button. Where was it? Nothing in this room was like the twentieth century at all. The IV and heartbeat monitoring machines were all on a control panel on a wall to the side. Less clutter, he supposed.  
Finally, Fry found a button with a red plus sign on the side of the rail. He pushed it and waited.  
A few seconds later a nurse in her mid-forties walked in. The nametag on her uniform identified her as Nancy. “Hello, Mr. Fry. I see we’re awake!”  
“Forget that. Where’s Leela?” Fry demanded. “What happened? How is she?”  
Nancy approached the bed. “I can’t tell you that. The doctor will,” she said. “You’re not to get out of bed, though, for a little while longer.”  
“Why?” He crossed his arms defiantly.  
“You’ve just had major surgery. They had to replace a small number of organs – your liver, spleen, kidneys, and stomach,” Nancy explained. “Would you like Dr. Howe to come in?”  
Fry signed heavily. Even that motion was painful, but he ignored it. “Yeah, sure.”  
After Nancy left, Fry gingerly felt his stomach, exploring with his fingertips. At first all he noticed were the stitches – dozens of them. Then he realized the strange tenderness of the skin itself, and just exactly _how_ lightly he was forced to graze over it. They had to have replaced the skin itself in spots. He shook his head. If they could just get him in a wheelchair and take him to see Leela, he’d swear not to move at all. Whatever it would take.  
Dr. Howe walked in briskly. “Hello, Fry. How are you this afternoon?”  
“I’m fine, I swear,” Fry insisted. “Tell me what happened.”  
Dr. Howe pulled up a seat. “Okay. Well, do you remember the accident?”  
“The bee? Yeah. It went right through me.”  
“Right,” said Dr. Howe. “Well, the thing is, the stinger didn’t poison you – although it did wreak havoc with a few organs. Completely demolished them, I’m afraid. You’ve had six things replaced. Including skin. I assume Nancy informed you?”  
Fry nodded. “Yeah, but I figured out the part about the skin myself.”  
The doctor blinked. “Really? Huh. They told me you were stu—” At Fry’s deadpan glare, he cut himself off. “—uh, pendous – stupendously clever. Right. I knew you were. Anyway. There’s no lingering damage, but we do have to wait and see if the transplanted organs take. Also we have to let the inflammation go down more. I’m sure you’ve noticed some sensitivity.”  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Fry said, waving his hand dismissively. “Now tell me what I really wanted to hear. Where’s Leela? What happened to her?”  
The easygoing expression on Dr. Howe’s face vanished. “I’m sorry, Fry… but she’s not doing as well as you are. She wasn’t injured as badly, but she got the full extent of the poison.”  
“No!” Fry pushed himself up to a full sitting position. “No, don’t tell me she’s—”  
“Relax. Please. I can give you a tranquilizer if you don’t cooperate.” The doctor pulled a syringe out of his pocket. Fry obediently backed off. “Now, she’s _not_ dead. She is alive, but in a coma. She’s in intensive care.”  
“Oh, God,” Fry groaned. “When can I see her?”  
“As soon as we know you’ll be all right,” Dr. Howe insisted. “Probably another five… hours.”  
Fry considered. “Only five?”  
“Yes, if you cooperate. Trust me, you won’t be any help to her if you make it worse for yourself.”  
“Fine, fine.” Fry lied back in the bed. “Is everyone else here?”  
Dr. Howe nodded. “I’ll send them in.”  
After a few minutes, Amy, the professor, Dr. Zoidberg, Hermes, and Bender were walking in. “The hypochondriac’s awake!” announced Zoidberg.  
“When was the accident? How long have I been here?” Fry asked.  
“Two days ago,” said Amy. “You just had your surgery yesterday.”  
“Leela’s in room I-322,” Bender told him. “We’ve been down there mostly ‘cause you’re boring. She at least talks in her sleep sometimes.”  
Fry glared at him, then down at the floor. “I can’t go down there yet. How is she?”  
“Oh, what a tragedy,” the professor said, shaking his head. “The poison caused her eyes to fuse into one.” Everyone frowned, then ignored him.  
“She’ll be fine if she just wakes up,” said Hermes.  
“When will that be?” Fry asked.  
Hermes shrugged. “Possibly never.”  
Amy smacked him. “She’ll be fine, Fry,” she said quietly. “Remember, someone has to yell at you guys. I can’t do that and look cute, too!”  
“And I’m certainly not going to yell at us,” Bender cut in, lighting up a cigar near an unused oxygen tank.  
Fry tried to warn him. “Bende—”  
The tank exploded, sending Bender flying into the opposite wall. “Ow.”

After five hours of uneasy rest – occasionally punctuated by an actual nap – Fry was dressed, ready to go, and impatiently pushing the button on the side of his bed. “Come on!” he called out. “Someone out there?”  
Reluctantly Dr. Howe walked in again. “Is it time already?”  
“Yes, damn it! Take me downstairs!”  
“All right, fine. Let me get a wheelchair.”  
Fry shook his head in frustration. The second he saw the doctor returning, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, gritting his teeth at the dull ache.  
“Ready?”  
“I’ve _been_ ready. Look, I had Bender bring up this gift I’ve had for her.” Gingerly, he stood, and then took the couple of steps to the hovering wheelchair. “Ow,” he groaned as he sat down, setting the box in a side pocket.  
Dr. Howe raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re feeling ok—”  
“I’m fine, I’m just not used to walking.” Fry reached for the controls. “Can we just go?”  
Rolling his eyes, the doctor pushed him out to the elevator. Fry’s room, it turned out, was on the twelfth floor. Fry stared at the red digital numbers indicating the elevator’s location. _…9. …10. …11. …12._  
Down below, the doctor stopped in front of room I-322. “Here. Do you want me to stop back later and bring you back up to your room?”  
“No… I’ll go back up myself later,” Fry said absently, hitting the button on the hover-chair to advance into the room. The doctor left, but he barely noticed. His attention was completely focused on Leela. She didn’t look good. Her skin was clammy and cool, and so pale it nearly glowed. Both her fingertips and lips were slightly bluish, and although she breathed on her own, it wasn’t without effort. Every breath sounded raspy and shuddery. Even the green line showing her heartbeat scared him; it had flattened out a bit and seemed faster.  
Slowly Fry stood up and regained his balance. Once he was standing still, he pulled the one chair in the room from closer to the door to right next to the bed. “Leela? It’s me, Fry. Can you hear me?” No answer. “I’m right here. Leela?”  
More raspy breathing. Then, out of nowhere, she mumbled something, turning her head back and forth in her sleep.  
“I can’t hear you. Are you all right? Leela?”  
Nothing. Then, “Fry?… You were dead…”  
He laughed. “Nope. I’m better than ever. I’ve had transplants and stuff.”  
Leela’s hand twitched. Fry reached for it, but she’d fallen silent again. “I’m here. And hey, you know what? I have a surprise for you. I got it at a Swedish novelty shop before we left.” He retrieved the box from the pocket on the side of the wheelchair. “I’ll just open it for you, okay?” Tearing off the wrapping, Fry pulled out a single-eyed squeeze toy and set it on the stand next to her bed. “I figured you of all people could use a stress toy. But there’s just one thing I want you to do, Leela. I want you to wake up.”  
She wasn’t waking up. And she wasn’t moving at all now, either. Fry sighed. _Please, please be all right,_ he prayed silently.

Another day.  
Fry slowly sat up straighter, yawning. What was it, mid-morning? The air-conditioner kicking on seemed to have woken him up this time.  
He’d been here for probably a week now, only leaving Leela’s side when he absolutely had to. He’d basically moved in; he never had returned upstairs. He just wished the chair was a bit more comfortable to sleep in. Standing, he stretched his arms back and forth.  
Leela looked no different today. Within the first few days, the pale clamminess – and the blue – had worn off, but she was still having trouble breathing. Fry had also found that the speech was rare; perhaps once every other day, if that. Even that was declining. Still, despite how long she’d been here, she appeared relatively normal – almost as if this were just a nap.  
“Hi, Leela,” he said cheerfully. “I’m just gonna keep talking. Even if you can’t hear me. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah. The others are coming up here later on. I’m not sure when, though. Oh, and you missed a great view of the sunset last night. It was all purple and red and blue, and cloudy, but not scary-cloudy. It was pretty cool.”  
She didn’t react. Fry glanced down at the floor briefly. _Please wake up._ The doctor had told him to keep a positive attitude, though; he couldn’t talk as if things were as bad as they seemed.  
Quietly Leela started to shiver; the air-conditioning must have been too chilly for her. Fry took his jacket off and gently put it around her shoulders. “Here. Take my jacket. You look a little cold.” The shivering ceased. He grabbed one of her hands. “You know, you can pull out of this. Easily. You _can._ All you have to do is wake up.” Leela frowned, her heart rate spiked, and she twitched, almost as if she were trying to shake her head. “No. No. Leela. It’s okay.” He held onto her hand like a lifeline. “You’re okay. Please, wake up… Wake up.”  
Slowly she calmed down, but she didn’t awaken. He took a deep breath.  
Just then the others walked in. Bender was smoking away, as usual. “Put that out! You can’t smoke in here!” Amy was yelling at him.  
“Oh, fine.” Bender flicked the cigar into the garbage. It lit the few miscellaneous items on fire, then slowly burned itself out.  
“How is she?” Amy asked. “Anything new?”  
“Nothing,” Fry said. “So what did the doctor say?”  
“That everything’s going to be all right,” the professor replied immediately.  
“Actually—” Hermes began, then stopped.  
“What?” Fry looked at everyone’s averted gazes. “What? What aren’t you guys telling me?”  
It was Zoidberg who finally spoke. “He said that as long as she’s been in this coma, she’ll never wake up. ‘Never!’ he said.”  
“‘Never!’” Farnsworth agreed.  
“‘Never!’” Amy chimed in.  
Fry stared at them in horror. “No! I refuse to believe that.”  
“Why don’t you?” Bender asked. “Look at her. She’s not reacting to anything. _Wake up!_ ” he shouted at Leela. “See? Nothing’.”  
Hermes nodded. “And the only time she’s talking seems to be in response to some crazy dream. She’s delirious.”  
“Yes, yes, she’s a goner,” the professor nodded. “I’m bored! Let’s just go.” He walked out, and after a moment or two, the others followed.  
Fry turned back to Leela. “It’s okay. Just ignore them. I’m fine, and you’ll be fine, too, if you just _wake up_. Almost everything is all right. But not _everything_. You have to wake up.” He watched her in earnest.  
Nothing. No reaction at all. He wondered if the others were rig— Not even possible, no way. He would never consider the idea. Instead he just kept watching and waiting for some sign.

Three more days and she’d stopped even mumbling in her sleep.  
Fry leaned back in his chair, exhausted. “Leela, wake up. Everyone’s running wild out there without you to yell at them. We need you!” He paused. “… _I_ need you.”  
She was frighteningly motionless.  
_Be positive, be cheerful._ Maybe he could sing. Aimlessly Fry swung a foot back and forth as he tried to think of something. Normally he’d just sing “Walking on Sunshine,” but she’d heard that a million times. Finally he thought of something. “Don’t worry… be happy… don’t worry, be happy now…”  
Fry laughed nervously afterward. “I really hope you can hear me, ‘cause I don’t want to have embarrassed myself for nothing here! Seriously, Leela, who’s going to be the responsible one if you keep sleeping? Think about it – do you really want the professor flying the ship? Or worse, Bender? And what about Nibbler? Bender and I are taking care of him, but he’s been so worked up without you. Just bouncing off the walls and everything. We can’t control him.”  
The only answer was the extremely slow, soft beeping of her heartbeat on the monitor. Fry didn’t want to think about what that meant. A worried flush crawled over the back of his neck; he shuddered and shoved the thought away. “You’re going to—”  
“—die,” a voice rang out.  
Fry jumped, then turned to the door. Dr. Howe was there again. “I’m sorry, Fry,” he said, walking forward. “But she will. She’s never going to wake up. It’s just been too long.”  
“No, she’s not going to die. She _can’t!_ ” Fry choked back a cry. “You can’t say that!”  
Dr. Howe stood next to him and looked down at Leela. “I can’t guarantee it, of course, but I’m pretty sure. She’s been in this thing too long. When you’re in a coma like this, it’ll start causing permanent brain damage.”  
“She’ll wake up any second. You watch.” Fry ran a hand over her forehead. “And she’ll kick your ass for trying to write her off like this.”  
“I’m sure she will,” the doctor said dryly. “I just thought I’d tell you about the reality of this situation.”  
“It’s not reality,” Fry muttered. “Get out of here.”  
“But—”  
“ _Go_!”  
The doctor obliged.  
Fry turned back to Leela. “Now you really have to wake up, if for nothing else than to shove it in his face. Okay?” Without pausing for an answer, he kept talking. “We haven’t been able to make any deliveries lately, but now Hermes is saying we need to work on the backlog. I just said, to hell with the deliveries! We can finish them later, right?...”

 _Beeeeeeep._  
The alarm couldn’t be going off already, could it?  
Fry lifted his chin from his chest, wincing at the cramp in his back. That damn beeping. Where was it coming fro—  
The heart monitor! Fry gasped; the reassuring – if recently weak – green line had flattened out completely. “Leela! Don’t do this! Wake up! Leela, no!”  
The line picked up again. But just barely.  
“Listen to me,” Fry urged. “You _don’t_ want to lie in bed like a vegetable and do nothing the rest of your life. I’ve tried it. Bedsores hurt! Come on, fight it! You can do it! The Leela I know doesn’t give up this easily.”  
He looked up at her vitals. The heartbeat line was the only one he understood; he had no idea if she was okay. Or where she was in her mind. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Leela, but there’s something I want to tell you. I love you.” He started crying. “Just wake up, Leela. _Please_. Just wake up!” At this point it was full-on begging. “Just wake up, _please,_ just wake up, Leela.” Fry sniffled.  
“…Fry, you’re alive,” he heard.  
He looked up to see Leela staring back at him. “Leela! You’re awake!”  
She nodded. “Of course I’m awake! You wouldn’t stop waking me.” Curiously she looked around. “Where am I?”  
“The hospital,” Fry explained. “The ambulance took you here right after the bee stung you.”  
Leela frowned. “But the bee stung you. It barely touched me.”  
Fry stood up and showed her the bandages still covering his stomach and back. “The stinger went right through me and you got all the poison. My new spleen came from a guy who liked to motorcycle.” He made fake revving sounds.  
Right then the others walked in. “Sweet three-toed sloth of ice planet Hoth!” Hermes exclaimed. “She’s awake!” Everyone cheered.  
“You were in the best coma I’ve ever seen,” Bender said enthusiastically.  
Amy nodded. “The doctor said you’d never wake up.”  
“Really?” Leela asked. “How long was I out?”  
“Two weeks. Fry never left your side for a minute.” Leela and Fry shared a glance.  
“And he talked nonstop. Like a parrot of the sea he was,” Zoidberg added.  
Fry looked back at Leela. “I thought that if you heard a familiar voice, it might help keep your mind together. But, who knows if it really got through?” He shrugged.  
“It got through, Fry.” Leela wrapped her arms around him, and he rubbed her back. “It got through.” After a second, she added, “But you could really use a shower.”  
“You, too!”


End file.
